Leviathan
by No Satisfaction
Summary: By odd twist of fate, the gang and the inspector end up on the same New Year's cruise, and are pitted in conspiracy of sabotage, theft, and murder.
1. Arrangements

All right everybody! I'm cracking into my first murder/mystery. Normally, I'm not one to read these kind of novels, I only read them if I have too. I was at first interested after reading _And Then There Were None_, so I tried cracking into another Agatha Christie novel, but I dropped within the first week. So I gave it a shot after reading a novel from Conrad Allen called _Murder on the Lusitania_, and I was immediately possessed with the ambition of reading all the books in the series.

My original idea was for this story to take place on an ocean liner like on _Murder on the Lusitania_, with the main character as Thaddeus Winslow Cooper, or some other ancestor from around that time period, but since we never get a chance become intimately familiar with any of the ancestors, I've instead used all the usual characters from the game and have on a monstrously huge cruise ship called the _Leviathan_ (The name sucks I know, but its supposed to be cheesy like that.). So R&R people!

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**Leviathan **

**Arrangements**

"Your kidding right?" Sly asked. Normally, he was the one who had irrational thinking, but now things were getting ridiculous.

"It seems right to me, even Penelope and Murray agree," Bentley calmly suggested.

"But first of all, we'd have no place to go," Sly debated. "We'd risk being caught. The police can get onboard at any time, but we couldn't get off, even if we tried."

"Then never come out from your disguise at all," Bentley decided. "Plus it be nice to spend New Years someplace nice."

"New Year's?" Sly cocked his eyebrow. "You've seen the movies, the moment the clock hits midnight everything goes straight to hell!"

"First of all," Bentley argued. "What are the odds of a rogue wave flipping a ship over? They're so rare you have a better chance of finding a supposedly extinct species hiding out somewhere."

"Whatever," Sly scoffed. "You guys can go, I'll stay here safely on dry land."

Bentley gave a sigh. The main reason he decided to go on this trip was to get the gang out of Paris for a while, and get Sly away from trigger happy Carmelita for a while. The trip was to be a four-week cruise, with stops in Oslo, Southampton, Miami, Ajaccio and several other places. But apparently Sly couldn't overcome his fear of drowning with no one around to save him. "Alright Sly, you win, you can just stay here."

Bentley wheeled himself out of the living room, leaving Sly in a sense of guilt. It was Sly's turn to sigh. He looked over to the screen of Bentley's laptop. It was an informational website about the cruise and booking.

"Leviathan huh?" Sly gaped, cocking his brow. "Sounds pretty cheesy."

And then he started clicking on the informational icons.

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Inspector Carmelita Fox pulled her face off her desktop and moaned at the sight of the several stacks of paper. Ever since Sly Cooper entered her life she regretted coming in for work every day. The only perks of chasing him around was getting to visit many countries and seeing many different cultures at the near expense of Interpol; too bad she didn't stop to enjoy any of it.

There was a knock on the door and in came the office worker, Winthorpe. Carmelita gave another pained moan as she saw the huge stack of papers in his hands.

"You need to take a vacation Miss Fox," Winthorpe said, dropping the papers on her desk with a thud. He then started fishing through his trouser pockets. "Here," he said, pulling out a folded piece of paper. "I was going to take this cruise for New Years, but not on my salary unfortunately."

Carmelita wearily took the paper, which turned out to be a brochure, and dropped it in her wastebasket. "Crime does not take vacations, so neither does Carmelita Montoya Fox."

Winthorpe nodded his head in disproval and walked away, closing the door behind him. Turning back to her stacks of paper, she knew she was in serious need of a vacation. She looked out her window towards the winter wonderland that had engulfed Paris. She gave a quick glance at her wastebasket, and then went back to filling out her paperwork. Occasionally, she glanced back to her wastebasket, until she snapped and snatched the crumpled brochure out from it. Looking at it, her frown turned into a slight grim as she turned on her computer and typed up the name of a website. A few minutes later, she grabbed her winter overcoat and shoved the paper into her wastebasket.

"Hey Winthorpe!" Carmelita yelled as she passed him to the elevator. "Write me up for a four week vacation."

"Okay!" Winthorpe smirked. "I am such a miracle worker."

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**To clear some things up before this story takes off- the boat does NOT get flipped over by a giant wave.**


	2. Le Havre Havoc

**Le Havre Havoc**

Nighttime had ensued as the crew of the Leviathan readied their proud ship for tomorrow's departure. The Leviathan itself was among the most prestigious liners afloat, a twenty story floating palace featuring a two decked grand ballroom that spanned three decks, three swimming pool complexes, a grand atrium that spanned the full height of the passenger decks, and two large water taxi boats used for shore trips into harbors that couldn't accommodate the ship resting on the bow, strapped into their launch gantries. Over 80 of the ships cabins were outside, allowing views, and 70 of them had balconies.

Lights twinkling in the dry cold air, it wasn't hard to be seen, especially from the docks as a shadowy figure waited in an alleyway. The raccoon leaned up against the exterior wall of a warehouse, the only warmth brought to him by the sweater and coat, the only thing hinting his presence being the cigarette that was tucked in between his lips. The cap on his head left little to be identified of him.

Eventually, something came his way, and he dropped his cigarette and grinded it into the ground with his boots. A dark green Rolls Royce pulled up several yards away, and out stepped a man in uniform.

"Is this dock three?" the man asked the driver.

"Yeah, it is," the driver answered. "There should be a boat to take you across to your ship through that building."

The man turned away and took a few steps forward in the direction of the raccoon, only to hesitate and turned back to the driver. "Are you positively sure this is dock three?"

The man didn't stand a chance as several thugs outflanked him. They grabbed him as he struggled and tried to scream, only to have a grimy paw clamped over his mouth. Then the second thug pulled out a switchblade, and silently ended the man's life. The raccoon then stepped out, shedding his coat and cap, and replacing them with the marked coat and hat of the slain man. He then stepped into the Rolls Royce, closed the door, and left, leaving the two thugs to carry away their mess.

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Due to strenuous fees and needs of the facilities by other vessels, the Leviathan was forced to dock offshore, already laden with the necessary supplies for the two-day leg to Oslo, Norway. The only way to get aboard now was by taking one of the two 150-person water taxis, and several smaller boats that had been lowered into the water to provided transportation for passengers to the vessel.

As the water taxi pulled up alongside of the vessel, Bentley looked around, hoping to see the one familiar face. Upon seeing nothing but strangers, he sighed. It would be just him, Penelope, and Murray. With the wealth they had accommodated, they had managed to reserve one of the several penthouse suites, with normal spaces on a first floor and the bedrooms on the second floor.

"I can't wait to see our suite!" Murray said enthusiastically.

"I hope its as good as the website shows," Penelope added.

Bentley gave a smile. "Too bad Sly didn't come."

"Yeah, I mean he's gonna miss out on a lot of fun!" Murray said. "Hey, remember in Australia, we entered that drinking contest? It was like out frat party days all over again."

"What drinking contest?" Penelope asked, intrigued.

"We got in a lemonade drinking contest and we had to chug pitchers of crappy lemonade," Bentley reminisced.

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Carmelita Fox gaped at how big the Leviathan was. It looked huge to begin with even from the dock a quarter of a mile away, but the size was just too un-comprehendible.

"Big ain't it?" someone said.

Carmelita turned her head to be staring at a decent looking weasel. "Si, it is overwhelming."

"Well I hope you don't get lost," the stranger said, offering his hand. "My name is Robert Wall."

"Carmelita Fox," she replied. "I hope not either."

"These ships can be like labyrinths," Robert said. "Thank goodness they decided to put maps of the floors throughout. Guess they got tired of sweeping up bones of people who got lost and starved I guess."

Carmelita smiled at his comment as they trudged up the gangplank and into the foyer. "Well, I guess this is where we part ways, it was nice meeting you Mr. Wall."

"Pleasure to meet you too," Robert replied, carrying his luggage in another direction.

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At around noon, the final horn blast signaled to be underway. Lining the exterior decks, the ship gave barely a list as the four propellers turned, motioning the ship to move through the sparkling water. Watching through his private cabin window, the uniformed raccoon pulled out a satellite phone and pressed a speed dial number. A few seconds later, he heard the distinct sound of the phone being answered on the other side of the line.

"I'm aboard," he said. "Did she get onboard? Boarding in Southampton? Good. Nobody will suspect anything… just make sure they keep him off of my tail…I will commence Operation Atlantis when I see the right time…"

He hung up.


	3. Day 1

**Well... Naolia, sorry that it appears that my story is similar to one of your ideas...coincidence I'm sure. And Raco-You will find out why that guy killed the guy ing the Rolls...mwahahaha! coughcough**

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**Day 1**

For about an hour, the passengers braved the chilly climate to watch the French coastline drift by. Inside, passengers were getting settled into their cabins and warming up. If they thought Le Havre was chilly; Oslo would be freezing, and full of ice. Fortunately for the passengers, one of the three pools was completely enclosed and sheltered, and a second one on the top deck with a sliding glass Magrodome roof, and once the ship reached Miami, the climate would allow for all three pools to be serviceable.

Lunch was already being served in the many restaurants throughout the ship, and after a light lunch, Carmelita was ready to explore the ship. She had found her room rather lavishing, looking as lavishing as the deluxe suites on most other ships, for only the same price for a normal cabin on other ships. But the variety of public rooms aboard was huge. She could write a book just listing them.

Entering the shopping arcade, she failed to notice that she was about to make physical contact with somebody.

BUMP!

"Watch out there," a joking voice said.

"Sorry sir," Carmelita apologized. "Didn't watch where I was going."

"S'okay," the stranger replied. Only then did Carmelita realize that the stranger was a raccoon, and her inner suspicions flared up. "Must be the romance of the sea, I haven't been on a ship without having an accidental run in with somebody awestruck by the luxury. Your first time?"

"How'd you guess?" Carmelita asked.

"Most people on these voyages aren't so distracted enough to run into somebody on the first day," the raccoon said. He then held out his hand. "My name is Conrad Allen."

"Carmelita Fox," Carmelita replied, shaking his hand.

"To be honest, this is my first time on this ship," Conrad said. "Never thought I'd be an officer onboard the Leviathan, no I didn't."

"You're an officer?" Carmelita asked, slightly narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

"Yes, if you had taken the time to notice my garb," Conrad replied with a grin.

Sure enough, Carmelita hadn't noticed that he was wearing a black officers' coat with gold bands on the cuffs, a black tie, white shirt, and a black with gold gilt officers' cap.

"Sorry," Carmelita apologized. "Didn't notice."

"S'okay," Conrad replied. "Fourth officer to be exact, going on to third officer if this voyage goes well."

"I hope you do get promoted," Carmelita grinned.

"Well since I'm a little bit familiar with you," Conrad said. "Perhaps you would care to sit at my table for dinner sometime? It ain't as fancy as the captain's table, but hey."

"Sure, how often does one get an invitation to dine with an officer," Carmelita answered.

"Well it looks I have to take my shift on the bridge," Conrad said, looking at his watch. "It was a real pleasure to meet you Miss Fox."

"Dido here Mister Allen," Carmelita replied.

Conrad briskly walked away, leaving Carmelita standing in the shopping arcade. Almost immediately she turned and walked to the elevators. A few more minutes later, she entered her cabin and pulled a complementary passenger list out of a nightstand drawer. Opening it to the first page, listing the officers by rank, she ran her finger down the list, and sure enough, there was a Fourth Officer Conrad Allen, with the picture of the man she met next to it.

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BURP!

Murray unleashed a belch that attracted the attention of several passengers in the pizzeria.

"Jeez Murray," Bentley scolded. "We're in public, can't you at least save us of any gassy function of your body until after we get back to the cabin?"

Penelope simply gave a muffled giggle at how oddly funny the scene seemed to be.

"What's so funny?" Bentley asked.

"You," Penelope laughed. "Your about as uptight as snobby aristocrat."

Bentley crossed his arms and skulked, while Murray grinned like a moron. Penelope's eyes caught something and she just managed to catch somebody as they left.

"Did you just see…?" Penelope asked, slightly flabbergasted.

"Who?" Bentley asked, slightly intrigued.

"Never mind," Penelope replied, putting the image of a ringed tail disappear around a corner out of her mind.

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	4. Day 2

**This is so freakin' sweet... it's been a long time since I received quick and numerous reviews this so early into the story. R&R!

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**Day 2**

Land was nowhere to be found as the Leviathan sliced through the frigid waters of the North Sea towards Oslo. But far off in the distance beyond the horizon was Scotland to the west and the entrance to the Baltic Sea to the east, and the Scandinavian Peninsula to the north.

Carmelita Fox was unable to enjoy the view as well as she wanted to; it was steadily getting colder outside and watching the sunrise lacked the desired effect from inside. She watched it anyway as she sipped her coffee and lounged in a chair on the enclosed promenade. It had been a long time since she had gotten some personal time, and what better way than through the romance of ocean travel?

For a brief moment, she completely forgot about Sly Cooper, his gang, her job, and all responsibility that she had. And for that brief moment she was as happy as she had ever felt.

"Excuse me miss," a somewhat familiar voice said, sending her crashing back down to reality. "I don't believe I got your name yesterday."

Carmelita jerked her head to find Robert Wall standing next to her. "Mr. Wall, nice to meet you again. And my name is Carmelita Fox."

"Well Miss Fox, nice to meet you again too," Robert replied. "Is anyone sitting here?"

"Knock yourself out," Carmelita said, motioning him to sit down in the seat next to her. He did so.

"Enjoying the sunrise I see," Robert said. "Wish my wife was here to enjoy this with me."

"Your married?" Carmelita asked.

"Not anymore. My wife, Emily, she died," Robert said, his eyes seemed to be glazed over. "Killed in a car accident about a year ago. They never caught the driver responsible for the accident."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Carmelita sighed, her ears flattening out of remorse.

"But you can't dwell on these kind of things you know," Robert sighed. "My first vacation without her. But now I'm moving on you know."

"Good for you," Carmelita smiled.

"Well, I hope you enjoy your voyage, I should probably let you be by yourself," Robert said, looking at his watch.

Robert walked away, and once again, Carmelita was alone once again.

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A thin but very fit raccoon walked up the corridor, taking notice of the steward heading in the opposite direction.

"Excuse me?" the raccoon asked, stopping the steward. "You're a steward for the deluxe cabins and suites right?"

"Maybe," the steward said. "What's it to ya?"

"I'm looking for some information," the raccoon said, holding out a twenty to him.

"Sure thing buddy," the steward said, swiftly taking the money. "What'll it be?"

"I'm looking for a handicapped turtle, his girlfriend, a mouse, and a large pink hippo, possibly traveling together," the raccoon said.

"Yeah, I've 'em!" the steward replied. "They've taken up one of the Trouville Suites."

"Where would those be?" the stranger asked.

"They're in TS-02," the steward instructed. "Down the hall, up the companionway at the end, make a right and you should come across it."

"Pleasure doing business with you," the stranger said.

"No, thank you," the steward said, fingering the crisp twenty in his pocket.

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"Steward!" a voice said, knocking on the door.

"I'll get it," Bentley said, wheeling himself to the lower level door.

After unlatching the deadbolt and chain he carefully opened the door. He should have checked the peephole first. Instead of seeing a steward clad in white, he was staring down the barrel of a gun…


	5. Day 3: Oslo

**Day 3: Oslo**

Bentley gave a gulp as he realized that her had a gun pointed between his eyes. The finger squeezed the trigger, and Bentley's life flashed before his eyes. Then he felt the wetness over dripping over his face, and for a moment, he thought that it was his own blood and cranium cavity fluids dripping down his face. Wait! Where was the gunshot?

"Gotcha!" a familiar voice said.

It was only then did Bentley realize that it wasn't blood but water dripping across his face!

"SLY!" Bentley yelled in relief.

"Quite Mr. Wisener," Sly said, entering the suite.

"You know my alias?" Bentley asked.

"Yeah, along with your wife Anne Wisener, and your pal Bobby Eskire," Sly stated leaning up against the counter of the kitchen area.

"SLY!" Murray bellowed, running down the stairs and crushing Sly in a bear hug.

"Murray-I-I-can't breath-pl-please…" Sly managed to choke out.

"How'd you get onboard?" Bentley asked, quizzical.

"I booked my own room, I got the Trouville Suite," Sly said. "Been looking for you since we left Le Havre. And by the way, outside this room I am to be called Vester Peroco."

"Sure thing Vester," Bentley teased.

"Keep laughing turtle and it won't be water coming out of the next gun," Sly sarcastically threatened.

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Oslo, the capitol and premier seaport of Norway loomed into view. But most of the passengers had preferred to watch the coast get closer from the warmth of indoors. Surprisingly, perhaps the warmest room aboard was the enclosed pool on the stern deck. The air comfortably smelled of warm chlorinated water and was filled with the sounds of bubbling hot tubs and splashing occupants. The tiny snowflakes of the flurry outside blemished the glass sides and ceiling of the place, and most passengers couldn't wait for the ship to reach the tropics within the week.

By noon, the water taxis were in the water, disembarking passengers planning to spend the day admiring the architecture of the snow covered buildings.

"Last boat leaves at five," Bentley said. "You wanna catch one to Oslo?"

"Naw," Sly said, leaning back in his deck chair in the poolroom. "It's colder than Nunavut Bay, and I was freezing my ass of there!"

"What about you Murray?" Bentley turned to his large pink friend.

"I'm going with Sly on this one," Murray said, taking a sip of his drink.

"Fine," Bentley said. "Penelope and I will go by ourselves."

"Actually," Sly brought up. "I think you and Penelope should have some time together, and by men and 'The Murray' here not going, you'll be looking less conspicuous."

"Never thought of that," Bentley said. "Well, see ya later." And he wheeled away.

After watching his pal disappear, he crossed his arms behind his head.

"Well, I'm gonna hit the buffet," Murray said, getting out of his chair.

"Hey Mur…Bobby," Sly said after him. "All you can eat' is not a challenge, take that in mind."

"Whatever," Murray muttered. And he walked off.

Despite being in a place of swimming trunks and bikinis, Sly was in black pants, black shoes, and a white button shirt. And he was comfortable that way. Eventually he slipped off into dreamland. He suddenly awoke when somebody did a cannonball near him, the noise waking him up. Looking around, his eyes caught something but immediately lost it.

"Was that?…no way, it couldn't be her," Sly asked himself. "But could it?"

Sly then shrugged it off and dozed off again, forgetting about a familiar fox disappear around a corner.


	6. Day 4: Edinburgh

**Day 4: Edinburgh**

Edinburgh itself was no better than Oslo when it came to winter climate. But because of recent snowstorms, the docks could hardly facilitate the Leviathan. Two ships had already gone belly up from enormous buildups of ice and snow. So like Oslo, the only way to the famous town was through ferry services between land and the ship. Fortunately, it was slightly warmer, and Sly decided that he would venture out on a little sightseeing.

Edinburgh was a cultural smorgasbord for history freaks. Streets dating back to medieval times; a medieval castle; just to name a few. But Sly wasn't exactly taking in the sights as he had planned. He was filthy rich from his thieving; he could come back whenever. He passed off the same buck towards Oslo. His mind kept drifting back to what he saw back in Oslo. But each time he thought about the sight being Carmelita, he passed it off as some other tourist.

He was simply minding his own business when he tripped on an upraised stoned and tumbled into another man. By the look of him, Sly could immediately register the man as an officer due to the navy blue overcoat and stripes on his cuffs.

"Sorry sir," Sly said, praying inside that the officer wouldn't recognize him.

"Not at all," the officer replied, brushing him off with a grin.

Sly could now get a better look at the officer. He could tell by the gray fur and black bands on his tail to see that the man was a fellow raccoon.

"I'm going out on a limb here," Sly said. "But are you an officer?"

"Fourth Officer Conrad Allen to be exact," the raccoon proudly said. "My ship's the Leviathan…"

"Nice to meet you," Sly said holding out his hand. "I just happen to be one of your passengers."

"Always welcome to say hello to a passenger," Conrad smirked. "How you enjoying your voyage?"

"Yes!" Sly enthusiastically said. "I barely have time to spend in the Deuville Suite."

"You have the Deuville Suite?" Conrad said. "Wow, I'm talking to somebody who makes more money than the captain in a year! Perhaps you'd like to dine at my table on…say, New Year's?"

"Why not?" Sly cheerily said.

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Walking into a pub, Sly was greeted by the comforting warmth and smells of liquor. But instead of getting himself a beer, he instead came only to use the bathroom. Normally, he'd grab a beer when he had a chance, but he didn't want to come aboard a ship staggering drunk and attracting unwanted attention. He casually used the restroom, and was on his way…

WAIT! Sly stopped. He saw it again. He saw a familiar tail disappear from view through the large logo window. Rushing outside, he was viciously attacked by the unrelenting cold.

"God I can't wait for the Caribbean!" Sly seethed, holding his dark coat as close to himself as he could manage.

There! He saw a tan jacketed figure slip out of view. He ran after it. His heart was racing at the thought of who it was. But he didn't realize that he had put his back to that person as she slipped into a store. Sly continued his chase, leading into an alleyway.

Realizing that whoever it was had stopped, Sly put his back to the wall. Peeking around the corner, he frowned realizing it wan't who he thought it was. He wasn't even a fox. The guy pulled out a cell phone and pressed a button, checking to make sure he wasn't being followed.

"…Yeah? I'm calling in…no I haven't found them yet," the man said. "Nothing mysterious yet sir…I've gone over the passenger list at least five times and still nothing…I might need you to fax me the manifest…NO I CAN'T ASK THE PURSER! They may have already infiltrated the crew so get me the list of crew too! …I KNOW! …DO WHAT I TOLD YOU TO DO, and I'll take care of them. Yes I have the silencer…"

That was all that Sly heard as he ran out of the alley and back into the streets. Checking his watch, he realized he had to get back to the ship and tell the gang what he overheard.

"Ooops! Sorry miss!" Sly said, bumping into a woman exiting a shop.

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Carmelita barely had time to react as a raccoon ran into her and then kept going, apologizing on the way. Still in a good mood, she shrugged it off and walked away in the other direction.

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Sorry for the long update. Been swamped with lots of homework and bein' chewed by my parents because I'm screwin' up in math. I will start working on the next chapter of Condor starting 10/8 hopefully 


	7. Day 5: Southampton

**Day 5: Southampton**

Sly was no idiot. He knew when there was danger afoot. He was like a magnet: trouble always seemed to come to him. For once he wished that he could go a year without ending up in some major incident outside of thieving. Now he was facing a possible murder. If he knew who the guy he overheard in the alley was; he might be able to know who he was targeting.

Bentley disbelieved him. While Murray, as gullible as he was, would believe almost anything. Bentley said it could have been the cold; but Sly knew why Bentley was liked this: he didn't want to get dragged out of his already nice vacation into a life-threatening situation.

Sly couldn't even sleep that night. He had been blindly watching TV for several hours-the only thing that had caught a hold in his distracted mind was that an odd cold front had formed over the North Sea, giving Oslo and Edinburgh an unusually colder winter climate than normal. For the rest, he had been laying in bed all night.

Morning had arrived and the alarm went off.

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Sly walked along the upper story of the promenade deck, stopping once in a while to catch a glimpse of the features of the shores of Southampton water. Sly knew his history. Southampton was home to the Titanic, its sister ships, and the two Cunard queens-Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth-and was also currently home to the largest ship afloat: the Queen Mary 2.

The ship would only dock for a few hours instead of the day in order to be able to reach open water before an unexpected winter storm blew up over it. For some people, this was a far as they'd go, disembarking, while for the others, this was the beginning.

By 1:00 PM, the Leviathan weighed anchor and was released her moorings, heading out to the English Channel. The passengers would not see land for another four days.

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"So how is your trip so far Ms. Fox?" Robert Wall asked, sitting across from Carmelita as she sipped a coffee.

"Very well thank you Mr. Wall," Carmelita smiled. "And please, call me Carmelita."

"Well since I'm on first name terms with you I suppose its only fair you call me Robert," Robert replied.

"Where we headed to next?" Carmelita said, looking out the café's window and out onto the promenade.

"We reach New York in about four days," Robert answered. "Four days of open ocean and then two days of rustling and bustling New York."

"I suppose we would expect ice?" Carmelita said.

"Well yes," Robert shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "It is December. It should be easy to spot your everyday iceberg, but growlers are the worry."

"Growlers?" Carmelita asked.

"They're flat chunks of ice so low to the water that they sometimes are awash. They're as good as invisible at night and can tear open a ship like a can opener. But ships like the Leviathan have a double skin and sealed watertight compartments made mandatory after the Titanic sinking. Plus radar should keep us clear of the larger buggers."

"You know an awfully lot about this sort of thing," Carmelita pointed out.

"I'm just a simple guy," Robert said. "This is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to me."

"So where you headed?" Carmelita asked.

"Full circuit for me," Robert answered. He took a sip of his own coffee. "Well gossip travels around here fast for a ship this big."

"Why?" Carmelita asked.

"Well somebody is staying the whole circuit in the Deuville Suite," Robert said, taking another sip of coffee. "It's the most expensive room on the ship, and its worth three times more than a captain's yearly salary! I was talking to the purser about some valuables and he brought up the man. A Mr Peroco? Well the purser said that the room was used only twice ever in this ship's four-year operating status. Nice man Peroco, he told me. Tipped the stewards big enough to make all the other passengers look stingy."

"I'm sure he's filthy rich," Carmelita commented. "He probably loves to flaunt his money about."

"The purser told me that this was the first time he had a vacation of this magnitude," Robert continued. "Apparently the guy works a lot but rests even more. I guess he deals in rare valuables; jewelry, gold, rare books-there was an unconfirmed rumor that a copy of the Rubyat of Omar Kayam passed through his hands."

"Sounds like an interesting man," Carmelita said.

"I for one would like to meet this Peroco fella," Robert replied.

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"This is the Captain," the figure said.

"I'm Tennille," the man replied. "Damn it! Why do we have to use these crappy code talks?"

"Loosen up Kronsteen," the figure answered

"Don't use names!" Kronsteen barked back at his equal. "My name is Agent Orange!"

"Fine Agent Orange!" the figure snapped back. "Is my agent on board?"

"Yeah Agent Jonah has boarded as a passenger and is ready for your word," Kronsteen answered.

"Good," the figure replied. "Tell Agent Jonah to look out for the enemy. I don't want another botched operation like last time. It was bad enough we killed that woman!"

"Relax," Kronsteen settled. "Everything will go right this time."

Suddenly the figure grabbed Kronsteen by the collar of his crew uniform and hauled the short man to his eye level. "For your sake it better go right!"

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A/N Sorry it took so long to update. Im already well into Day 6. AS a heads up, next chapter will include a little history trivia, so next chappy, keep your eyes open for the hidden answer.

In next chapter: The captain of the Leviathan recieves orders, Sly self-teaches himself to swim, Sly meets Carmelita, and that's about as far as I got into writing that chapter.

Till next time!


	8. Day 6

**Day 6**

The cold air and the salty taste of the sea spray was enough to sober anyone up from their post-sleep drowsiness. To the passengers of the _Leviathan_; named after the sea creature and the United States Line cruise ship that started off as Albert Ballin's HAPAG line's _Vaterland_. The ship was extremely stable for her size. The ship appeared to ride high, but in fact three deck were completely below the water line thanks to the pull of the two story ballast tanks, each capable of holding an Abrams Tank three deep by three wide by three high (A/N; that's a lot of water!!!).

But still; not even the most advanced stabilization systems couldn't eliminate the tiny vibrations coursing through the ship's supports. To the passengers, these vibrations were about as nonexistent as some peoples' imagination. But to Captain Kendall, they were real enough to etch the thought of capsizing all about his brain. He had seen Poseidon, and read the Paul Gallico novel, and the horrors of those well recognized media symbols were good enough to land worst case scenario in his own handbook.

"Message from Admiral Sandecker of the United States Navy sir," First Officer Pitt said. "He wanted to let you know that there will be additional goods to be boarded upon arrival in New York and Miami. He asks if you will comply."

"Tell them yes," Kendall replied. "But tell them that one agent isn't gonna cut it with this plan. Tell them I need more guards."

"Yes sir," Officer Pitt answered.

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Sly had calmed down now. Being seven in the morning and most passengers were either starting to have breakfast or still sleeping, he was alone in the magrodrome pool. Instead of his average voyage attire that he wore since day one, he was instead in a pair of blue swimming trunks. This morning he would try to get the basics of swimming down. The water was deep enough to just reach his shoulders as kicked off the wall, pushing his body forward into a superman like pose. He then brought one arm up and splashed it down in the water, propelling him a few feet in the water. He was glad nobody was around because even though he was already getting the basics down, he still looked like floundering fish. But when he reached the other end, he instead pushed off, and tried it again. He continued this pattern, and by eight, he had come to realize that he was moving through the water faster and far more gracefully.

"Mind if I join you?"

Sly nearly jumped out of the water in surprise, but managed to keep his cool despite that he was now being watched. Pushing running his hands up his face to get the water and hair out of his eyes, he nearly had a heart attack when he saw who it was. On the other end of the pool, dipping her foot into the warm water was none other Carmelita Fox!

_HOLY SHIT!_

"No mam," he said, slightly altering his voice to sound a bit more French than American.

He then finally realized that she was wearing a two piece bikini that, just like her uniform, left little for the imagination; WAY little.

"I've never seen somebody swim like that before," she said, sliding herself down into the warm water.

Sly didn't know what to say. Carmelita Fox, the woman he couldn't find a way to keep out of his dreams, didn't recognize him, thankfully, but had seen how poor a swimmer he was.

"I…"

"I mean, you may have broken quite a few swim records there," Carmelita continued.

Sly resisted dropping his jaw from amazement at how well he was pulling off his disguise and at how hot he found her to be. But then he got a little cocky.

"I'm actually a little surprised I had an audience," Sly said. "I normally choose to swim during the hours when I know that there'd be nobody up swimming. In fact I would have thought a lady as beautiful as you would still be getting her beauty sleep."

Though he couldn't tell, Carmelita did blush a little. "Well I rarely swim and its during these hours that I can swim alone without some jerk off whistling at me."

"I've known some girls who've had the same problem," Sly said. "The name's Vester Peroco, but feel free to call me by my first name."

"Vester?" Carmelita asked, trying hard not to find his name a little humorlessly weird.

"Eh," Sly shrugged. "It was kind of the opposite short version of Sylvester, kinda like how for Christopher there is Chris and the opposite is Topher."

"Wait! I know you," Carmelita gasped. Sly thought she recognized who he was. "You're the rich guy in the Deuville Suite."

_Well at least now I've met him_.

"Guilty as sin," Sly shrugged again.

"I would have thought you to be more like in your fifties and one of those fat cats…" Carmelita said, shutting herself up when she realized how rude she was being.

"So far you're not the first to say that to me," Sly chuckled. "One steward was personally delivering my shoes after getting them shined and he thought I was a thief. That is until I showed him my passport."

"Some people aren't trusting," Carmelita replied, turning an unnoticeable red from realizing the irony of what she said. "I've seen a lot of people who stereotype people."

"Yeah, most people I've seen stereotype someone rich to be on the old side and a snobbish," Sly said. "The worst part for me about being, well…what I am, is that when some people find out who I am, all they end up seeing is money signs and an opportunity to take half my money."

Carmelita felt strange. But not the 'I should probably keep my distance from him' strange. He wasn't bragging about his money, in fact, he seemed a little shy about acknowledging he had money. She had to admit he was good-looking, nice, and he made maintained eye contact with her instead of looking at her other 'features'.

"I'm sorry," Sly sincerely said. "Here I am rambling on when you're the one who talked to me…"

"It's no trouble at all," Carmelita said. "Actually, I was about to ask you if you would like to join me and maybe a friend of mine at lunch, that is if my friend shows up, then it would be the two of us…"

"Sure, I would love to Miss…" Sly said, then showing confusion over that he didn't know her name.

"Oops," Carmelita caught on. "I didn't tell you my name. I'm Carmelita Fox."

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Seaman Jones performed his routine inspection rounds. Since day one in the _Leviathan's_ career, he had been a member of the crew. One of the many things that he had come to love about the ship was that it was one of very few that had a private swimming pool for the crew, tucked away underneath the whaleback bow, hidden from the passengers' view among with the unsightly docking gear and anchor clutter.

He was the midmorning patrol, on the lookout for misconduct among the crew and any of the ships' equipment that may be malfunctioning, right down to the light bulbs.

On the last of his inspection were the storage facilities for the many different types of alcohol for the passengers. While the crew was aloud to drink beverages during their active shifts, they were prohibited from consuming alcohol at any time except when off the clock. He had to make sure the kegs and bottles were secured, and that the connections between the bars taps and the room were sealed where the hoses connect with the daily kegs; each day at least two kegs of each brew was hooked up.

It was safe to say that when he had the chance, he'd sneak a number of sips from the connections, since security only monitored the canned and bottled liquors and not the connection facilities. But each day he would pick out a bottle of wine or champagne, or whisky and look at the label and fantasize about him being among the bourgeois sipping their bourbon chasers and rum n' cokes.

CLICK.

Jones turned around. There was nothing there to indicate a person. He had the sudden feeling that he was being watched and came to the conclusion that he should get the hell out of there and prepare for his generator room duties.

He failed to notice a pair of eyes watching him from behind a rack of kegs.

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Sly sat across from Carmelita, slightly nervous about getting this close to her. He knew he needed to watch for what he said, lest he tip her off as to whom he really was. He had to admit, she was very lovely when she wasn't trying to fry him into a crispy hillbilly meal. And the fact that she saw her in that bathing suit; it was driving him insane! He was having a hard time not envisioning some certain 'games' between him and her, which he was thankful she wasn't a mind reader or else he was screwed more than a new guy who dropped his soap in a prison shower room.

"So how far are you heading Vester?" Carmelita asked.

"Full circuit, et toi?" Sly responded.

"Same here."

"So where's your friend," Sly asked.

"Meh," Carmelita shrugged. "Sometimes he shows, sometimes not. He kinda just shows or don't. Its kind of unreserved if you know what I mean?"

"Oh, one of those people who comes to talk with you, but your encounters with him are pretty much on his terms," Sly replied.

"Well, you seem like one of those good guys," Carmelita said, take a sip of her tea. "You must be at least knee deep in the occasional gold digging tramp and what not?"

"Nah!" Sly scoffed. "I can tell if someone's genuine and who's a phony. But there is this lady that I sort of know in Paris that I like. Hard to tell if she likes me back though."

"Ah, so what do you think of me?" Carmelita asked.

"I see a very beautiful woman," Sly started. "But not just the ordinary, everyday lady like everyone else in this room. The way you dress suggests that you are asking for some attention, but the belt says that nobody will be getting in your pants, the lack of makeup on your face says that you could care less about how much better others may think you'd look. The eyes are hypnotizing, enigmatic, beautiful, but they are searching for something or someone. The boots tell me you wouldn't think twice about kicking someone's ass and it gives you an air of command. You seem to carry the perfect blend of ego, pride, and commanding that I think you are one woman that any guy would be too big a lemming (aka nature's retard) to let you slip through their fingers as soon as they finally caught you."

Carmelita tried so hard not to gape at him. He said it with a serious tint to it, but he had said it in a sweet way. She just didn't know how to react.

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The night was soothingly silent as Sly sat laid back on the couch, taking a sip of cognac from crystal that was in the in-room bar. Normally he wouldn't drink; dulled the edge of his senses, his judgment, his ability to react. But he was on vacation for the time being and all he cared about was relaxing the kind of way he couldn't back at the safe house. Cleverly hidden somewhere in his suite, he had stashed his cane and Theivious Raccoonus. He gave a relaxed sigh and headed up the stairs to the second floor of the suite to get some shuteye when there was a knock on the door.

He opened the door and in stepped in Carmelita, with a glint in her eye that was not familiar to him. She kicked off her boots.

"Miss Fox," Sly blurted. "What are you doing here?"

But she didn't answer. Instead, she took off her jacket, tossing it onto the couch. She leaned forward to give him a kiss and then pulled back, leaving Sly or Vester as she though she knew him, touching his lips in amazement. Reached up to pull down the zipper on her top and…

RING! RING! RING!

Sly looked at the clock: 11:45. 'What the hell' he thought. He picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey Sly."

"Bentley? What the hell! It's a quarter till midnight!"

"Murray spotted you conversing with a certain inspector."

"It's no big deal, she didn't recognize me so good night."

"NO BIG DEAL? SLY THIS IS…"

Sly hung up the phone. "I said good night Bentley!" he said and then drifted back to sleep, but to his future dismay, no such dream as he had when Bentley interrupted.

* * *

A/N: Does anybody see what maritime connections I made in this. There was a real Captain Kendall-he was captain of the RMS Empress of Ireland-what was it's historic significance. Also the 11:45-that was the time Titanic hit the iceberg that sank it.

Anyway, I'm well into the next chapter, and eventually a new character will enter the equation; one that may just replace Carmelita in Sly's heart! And I will try to squeeze in that Conrad Allen officer-the shifty eyed one- as well as Robert Wall.


	9. Day 7

**Day 7**

Carmelita awoke at 8:30 am. Still groggy, she opted to just drink coffee and skip breakfast and sleep in a little more, though she was slightly freaked out of doing that last choice over the weird dream she had. She had only met Vester Peroco yesterday, and while they had really made a connection, she was already having dreams about him. It was bad enough she was having weird fantasies over Cooper, now it was over a random and complete stranger. Yet there was something familiar about him. Was it the eyes? Or his flirty yet respecting demeanor towards her? Or was it his awesome bod… STOP IT! She mentally beat herself.

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"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?" Bentley screeched. "WERE YOU DROPPED ON YOUR HEAD AS A BABY?"

"I know I was," Murray interjected, only to back away cautiously when Bentley gave an evil glare at him.

Sly chuckled. If he was even remotely intimidated, he sure didn't show it. "Are you sure there isn't something wrong with you? Cause your facing starting to turn that shade of blue that makes all us nervous."

"I'm not the only one who'll be turning blue around here once Inspector Fox rings your neck!" Bentley quarreled.

"First of all Bentley," Sly said. "I've bought my own separate ticket, so if she manages to track the booking records, it'll show that I boarded alone. Besides, she thinks I'm Vester Peroco of Paris, rare antiquities dealer and connoisseur of the fine arts. Plus I really hit it off with her at our little lunch rendezvous."

"Hit it off?" Murray jokingly scoffed. "It looked more like you turned her on…"

"MURRAY!" Bentley bellowed, causing his hulking pink friend crowd himself in a corner of the suite.

"By the way, where's Penelope?" Sly asked.

"She's in the spa for a mid-morning facial scrub and all that hoo-haw," Bentley scoffed.

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Penelope was slowing dozing off into a nap, her facial features hidden by the cucumbers and facial mask on her face, the rest of her body submerged in soothing mud. But she was stirred by the sounds and sighs as someone took up the bath next to hers. Carefully peeking from beneath the cucumbers slipping off her face, she saw a familiar vixen next to her. She almost panicked when she recognized the blue haired inspector. Seeing the inspector, Penelope realized why it was no wonder she captivated Sly's attention.

"Now this is a vacation," Carmelita muttered to herself.

"First time?" Penelope asked. "I mean, first spa treatment?"

"First time in a long time," Carmelita replied, sliding herself neck deep into the mud bath. "I've been working way to long and hard I realized."

"All alone?"

"Yeah, but I've met some nice people," Carmelita answered. "You?"

"No, I've already got a boyfriend with me," Penelope replied. "Met anybody worth talking to?"

"I made friends with this widower," Carmelita said. "But then I did come across this nice guy, apparently he's the richest man on the ship, and I got to say, he was pretty cool. But he seemed pretty familiar. His name's Peroco, and we had lunch. He offered me dinner, but…"

Unlike Bentley, Penelope saw some potential in Sly and Carmelita, even Murray, though so cautious, backed the idea up slightly. "Well you should accept his invitation. It's not everyday someone as beautiful as yourself meets somebody whose loaded…wait, isn't he the guy that's in the Deuville Suite?"

"Yeah," Carmelita said.

"Oh man, he has standards," Penelope tried to boast. "I'm pretty sure I saw him turn down at least three offers for lunch and dinner from several women. I've seen him, he looks to be quite the catch."

"Well, I do find him interesting..." Carmelita shrugged.

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Something was wrong, Seaman Jones realized as he headed for the liquor storage facility. He soon realized that maybe not going to that might not have been a smart choice.

"What's going on here?" Seaman Jones exclaimed, entering the unmonitored room of the facility. Three unfamiliar men gazed at him in surprise and contempt.

Jones got a brief look at what they were doing. They were huddled around a keg half pulled out of the storage rack up against the hull. One of them was apparently inserting a small electronic looking device into what was apparently a plug hidden on the side.

He had no idea that a fourth man was right behind him.

CRACK!

Jones was down on the floor as darkness soon enveloped him and lost consciousness.

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A shadow enveloped Sly as he read his book in a deckchair on the enclosed promenade. Being the ever so slightly paranoid self, he looked over at his new companion from the corner of his eye.

"Enjoying your trip so far?" the stranger asked, reclining in the deck chair next to Sly's.

"Going pretty dam well I'd say," Sly replied.

"The name's Robert Wall," the stranger said, holding out his hand.

"Vester Peroco," Sly cordially answered, shaking the Robert's hand.

"Nice to meet you," Wall said.

"Likewise."

The two began to break out into conversation. Sly found it nice to be able to converse with someone who wasn't either yelling at him (Bentley) yelled out macho sayings that barely made sense (Murray) or using confusing multi-syllabic words (Penelope) or shooting at him and cursing his name (Carmelita). But the conversation didn't last forever, as of lunchtime drew in and Wall excused himself to one of the ship's many restaurants and cafés.

"Nice guy," Sly muttered to himself as he reclined back into his deckchair.

Unfortunately, Sly also found another connection. Robert Wall was the mystery man from the alley in Edinburgh.

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Conrad knew things were off. He began to make his daily rounds. He heard that a crewman didn't show up to his nightly position in the engine room, and nobody had yet found him. No one had reported to him about any possible foul play.

"Jackass must have just gotten drunk and went to sleep it off somewhere in the cargo hold," Conrad said to himself.

The air was briskly cold, and while yesterday's waves seemed to subside, the _Leviathan_'s knife edged prow still managed to kick up enough sea spray to mat down any exposed fur. He mentally prayed that his theory was true.

The plan needed to go smoothly.

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"Even after that little lecture I said to you," Sly said. "You still decided to join me for dinner."

"You're a very astute man Mr. Peroco," Carmelita replied with a smile. "I like that in people."

"What in people?"

"The ability to know a person just by looking at them," Carmelita said. "I must say that that's rather rare among the men I meet."

"My friends think it's a curse," Sly replied. "That I might misjudge someone and screw up my life. They, or at least one of them, think he should be in control over who would make an excellent Mrs. Peroco, though I'm not in the plan of looking for any suitors. And I told you, you can call me Vester."

"Alright…Vester…" Sly beamed when she finally called him by his alias's first name, "I just have to ask…"

"Go on, gorgeous."

"Who are you?"

"Someday, you'll know. You'll see."

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Sly had bid Carmelita a farewell just after dinner, and was heading to his room. At this time of night, the corridors and companionways were deserted. That was how it appeared until Sly picked up the faint sounds of someone rushing along another corridor nearby.

Sly rounded a corner to see non other than Robert Wall hurrying along, oblivious to Sly's stare from behind. Just as Wall started down a companionway, Sly moved, trailing the suspicious man. Sly followed him down the companionway, careful not to make any noises as he continued down the stairs. Sly was playing cat and mouse with Wall all over the ship. They continued further into the bowels of the ship, reaching the last passenger deck. But then finally, Sly had lost Wall. Still hurrying down the corridors and turnabouts looking for his quarry, he was ill prepared for what happened next.

WHAM!

The door to one of the turnabouts opened up and slammed into his face. Sly was flung back down onto the floor, dazed and confused.

"OH GEEZ!" a female voice yelped. "Are you all right sir?"

Sly looked up to be staring at a pair of beautiful blue eyes. He was looking right into the eyes of an attractive looking tigress.

"Well I still have all my teeth," Sly replied.

"I am so sorry," the woman said, helping Sly off the ground. "Had I known…"

"That's okay," Sly smiled, trying to calm her down. "It's not like this was the first time I was slammed in the face with a door."

"My name is Deirdre Lang," the woman replied.

"Nice to meet you…er…"

"MISS Deirdre Lang," Deirdre managed to correct.

"Nice to meet you Ms. Lang," Sly said, holding out his hand. "My name is Vester Peroco."

"Well Mr. Peroco," Deirdre said, shaking his hand. "It was nice meeting you, though I am still sorry for…OH MY LORD! YOUR NOSE!"

Sly wiped the back of his hand on his to reveal that there was a slight red smear across it. Sly knew it was bad enough for Ms. Lang to feel bad for nailing him in the face with a door, he didn't need her feeling bad for a nosebleed either. "That's okay, wasn't your fault, I suffer from chronic nose bleeding all the time, they're never very bad," he fibbed.

"I was just trying to find my cabin and I got off the elevator on the wrong floor and took a wrong turn. I've been trying to find my cabin for the last half hour."

"Well, these ships are like mazes on the inside," Sly said. "There's a stairway that'll lead to whatever deck you're looking for. Head pat me to the main corridor, make a right and you will come across one of the turnabouts, it's the third one on your right. There should be a stairwell on the left."

"Oh, THANK YOU Mr. Peroco," Deirdre gaped.

"Wait!" Sly stopped, remembering something. "Nobody came by you down this corridor they they?"

"No, you're the only person I've come across in the past half hour," Deirdre answered. "Why?"

"No reason," Sly said. "I suppose I'll be seeing you around huh?"

"I hope we cross paths again too," Deirdre smiled, taking off.

Sly paused for a few moments for his mind to fully grasp what had happened. Deirdre Lang was rather interesting. He smiled at the thought of her. This is going to be nice, he thought, then headed off to try to find his suite.

* * *

How long has it been since I last updated? Oh well. So many ideas are running through my head, but of course, the procrastinator in me will likely block me from finishing any of them.

Anyway, it looks like another character has come into the equation. Will this lead to a love triangle? If so, will this lead to some big cat fight between Carm and the new girl? Why the hell am I asking these questions when I already know them?

Anyway, I came up with two different ideas for a horror story, A) something along the lines of Halloween, or B) a parody of Christine, only with Murray and instead of a Plymouth Fury, its the van.

This is NS signing off. Au Revoir!


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